07.31.05
Posted in faith at 4:20 pm by
As the title indicates, this post has been a long time coming. Months ago, Zalm asked me what exactly about the church that Jen and I were attending that I liked. And, following our ‘break-up’ from our past church, and the intertestimentary period where we attended the local ‘bedside Baptist’ church (or for all you closet neo-calvinists out there–the ‘rollover Reformed’ church), it seemed that coming up with some good things about the great idea of ‘Church’ was in order.
However, it also seemed prudent to me to wait a touch before I got myself all wound up about how wonderful our current church was before I made my revelation to the world about how much I liked it. Also, Greg’s recent posts about the meaning and true purpose of the worship experience have spurred on some thinking on my part about the role that the church that Jen and I currently have been attending plays in ‘doing good worship.’
One thing I love about our church is that it participates in honest, and to borrow an idea from David Dark, confessional worship. This isn’t to say that the service is overly focussed on the concept of confession of sin. I mean by confessional worship, that this Church remembers its collective history of faith. You see, our church is honest to the religious traditions of its parishoners. The value I see in this is that though there are many parishoners with the same historical religious tradition as I, there are also many who do not share that tradition. Though our church has a long way to go, it’s striving to be multi-cultural.
Our worship follows a traditional liturgy anyone who’s grown up in a Christian Reformed Church is probably farmiliar with. At the same time, there are many aspects of worship that follow a liturgy that someone from an african american pentecostal tradition would find farmiliar. Why does this blending matter to me? Well, frankly, because it challenges me to be more than what I’m comfortable with. I’m able to grow in my understanding of the liturgical tradition, and more than just the liturgical tradition of white religious America. Understanding the value of rhythm–be it in a call / response praise format, or in a repitious praise chorus–in worship is something I’ve found to be moving. It helps me to experience God in a way that only a multi-cultural church can. And, I like that.
Another aspect of our current church that I like a lot is the community aspect of the church. Our church is located in a community that it should’ve–by all suburbio-white-middle-class-consumerist standards–fled from long ago. I go to church in a predominantly lower-income neighborhood. Now, going to church in a place like this is one thing. But, BEING the church in a place like this is entirely another. From what I can tell, this church LOVES BEING the church in and to this neighborhood.
One final community aspect of this church that I think is fantastic, is the way it raises up its children. First, these children are allowed to see role models in the form of pastors, youth instructors, etc, that aren’t all white. People in positions of authority are–though imperfectly–from more than just one color. That’s cool, because kids are given the opportunity to see that despite our differing histories: we all worship the same God.
Along that same vein, I love that ’sunday school’ for kids doesn’t happen during church. Who cares? Well, me. I care because a ’sunday school’ that happens during the worship experience is often just an excuse to ‘get the noisemakers out of the sanctuary.’ The thing is, those noisemakers are just as much a part of the church as you and I. I love that these kids are learning the value of a sermon, of praise and worship, at a very young age. They’re also seeing their parents worship God. Yes, sometimes the crying babies, the sound of hot-wheels on the tile floor, the occasional sibling war over a box of magic markers, and the rare dropping of a collection plate can, at times, be disturbing; however, all told I’ll take the distractions to realise the power of the people of God coming together to worship.
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07.30.05
Posted in faith at 9:12 am by
Greg said this, and I loved it:
I say the prayer; God forgives me; Jesus lives in my heart, whatever the hell that means. No notion of being saved INTO something, just out of or from something.
Ah, salvation. The thing you have, and once you have it you’re done. Perhaps it’s time the contemporary Church started looking at salvation as something more than just an end in and of itself. Perhaps, it’s a means to an even greater end. (But, only if you actually, you know, believe what the Bible says about the Kingdom of God on earth.)
Of course, if salvation was an end in and of itself–and you believe in Jesus Christ as God–why in the world would his death and resurrection happen at such a temporal distance from his second coming. I mean, why not just die, save humanity from their sins, and end the world, if that’s all there is to salvation anyway? Believing in salvation as an ends rather than as means to an end puts one in the position of loving an awful jackass of a God, now doesn’t it?
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07.28.05
Posted in christ-haunted life at 4:11 pm by
I’m taking a little break from my christ-haunted life series. I’ll try to be back at it next week. In a somewhat related yet unrelated note, but an interesting aside to the whole escapade of blogging: I’ve come to believe that people are particularly sensitive to dissent when they go about revealing a part of themselves in their writing. Even when the dissent is kindly offered, it can be emotionally difficult to handle some of the words and ideas even the most conscientious objector offers.
So, with all that in mind. I’m taking a step back for the weekend–at least with regard to the series of posts I’ve been pursuing. Hopefully, I’ll gain some perspective, and come back refreshed and renewed.
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07.26.05
Posted in faith, politics at 10:33 am by
NOTE: In NO WAY is this piece intended to reflect ALL the rhetoric found on the Christian Alliance for Progress site. I’m sure much of it, if not most of it, is quite fine and truthful rhetoric.
I’m taking a short break from my ‘christ-haunted life’ series to bring up an issue that I glossed over yesterday. It has to do with the ‘Christian Alliance for Progress‘ (CAFP). Public Theologian and I have been sharing some debate about the nature of the alliance and I thought it worth a clarifying post.
Essentially, I offer a bit of soft criticism of the CAFP, for not necesarily being what I percieve to be completely honest in their rhetoric toward and about conservatives. I feel that the CAFP sometimes engages rhetorical tactics similar to what much of the beligerent religious right does.
Let me say, though, at the outset, I am a progressive, a liberal, a member of the reality-based community (though that’s quite a loaded term, too), and I’m a Christian. I suppose you could say I’m a member of the religious left. I agree with the politics of the CAFP, what I disagree with are their methods.
Here’s what I mean: the religious right (left purposely undefined) looks to the left for an adversary. They portray the left as ‘godless infidels’ who thrive on killing babies, wastefully burning the money of tax-payers, robbing from the average American in order to fund the laziness of a few, and encouraging wonton sexuality and orgies and the like. And, like CAFP, I think this sucks. It’s patently untrue, and in most cases harmful.
Oh, yes, the religious right has one key advantage that a member of the ‘religious left’ doesn’t. They’re the loud opinion when it comes to the way Christianity is popularly understood. (I refrain from saying the majority opinion, because there are a lot of Christians–probably even most Christians–who DON’T march behind the likes of Falwell, Dobson, or Robertson in lockstep.)
Unfortunately, I think that CAFP has in some ways begun participating in the same flame-throwing that the religious right has a patent on. The religious left chooses the right as an adversary. The right are portrayed as the ‘televangelists’ who hate gays, women, and minorities, who couldn’t give two shits about compassion, who are more interested in using the poor as a trampoline for their own wealth. And frankly, this is mostly untrue. (And, damn, is it ever hard to admit that!)
Again, though, as it is with spectra, there are a few leaders and a few folks who follow the leaders of the left (thought those leaders images aren’t as instantiated as those on the right) but the vast majority of Christians–conservativish…liberalish–don’t follow in lockstep behind those leaders either.
My premise is this: I just can’t imagine it’s particularly helpful to frame folks in the same light that we (progressives) have been so offended by in the past. It seems to me that this could only add fuel to the fire–a fire that I certainly can’t see as a purifying one for the Kingdom of God.
I also think that fundamentally the CAFP is a necessary voice. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t wish for the CAFP to go away, or anything of that nature. I would just hope for them to rise above the Rove-ian rhetoric of Christian conservatism and Christian liberalism. Clearly stated views are one thing, but demonizing the ‘other side’ is something entirely different. When we demonize others, we don’t proclaim the truth. And, an organization that doesn’t proclaim the truth doesn’t bring about the Kingdom of God.
I understand the hurt and pain caused by fundamentalism for years. I’ve witnessed it and I’ve written about it for some time now. However, I simply cannot imagine that rhetoric that polarizes people, Christians, apart is in any way helpful to the Kingdom. As much as I hate to admit it, we probably need eachother–liberals and conservatives and the vast majority of everybody else somewhere in the middle.
I say this, let’s not just be the jokers to the right of the populous or the clowns to the left. Let’s model a rhetorical vision that’s true and honest and confessional. Let’s use rhetoric that glorifies God, not rhetoric that demonifies a few of his followers (even if we think they’re assholes.) (See, it’s hard for me, too.)
Yes, indeed, I’m hardly one to speak here. I’m far from perfect. I’ve misrepresented conservatives, many times, in fact. So, why listen to me? I don’t know. I’m just another ’screw-up’ that’s trying to make it through a muddied world. But, I have to believe that the God of grace would bless this grand idea. That a gracious God would help us all to live and speak a little more honestly if we open ourselves up to the option.
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07.25.05
Posted in christ-haunted life at 8:28 am by
NOTE: For a little background on this post, read volume 1 of the christ-haunted life series.
My first real memories of Church are come from a Sunday School sing-a-long time that I was a part of in Hawarden, Iowa. Hawarden (pronounced Hay-warden) Christian Reformed Church was my dad’s first church. From the stories I’ve heard, it probably wasn’t the easiest way to start off in the ministry. Regardless of my dad’s trials as the pastor of this church, I loved the Sunday School sing-a-long. At age 4, pretty much everything can be made into a game, so, any songs that included actions were my kind of thing.
Despite what was probably a challenging Church for my parents, they’ve come away with a few ‘forever friends’ from that experience. I’m continually amazed by these people–after years apart this couple and my parents seem to just jump back into their friendship. Amazing.
This couple, and to protect their anonymity we’ll call them Ron and Ruth, adopted my brother and I as their own in a manner of speaking. Now, of course, we’re not REALLY their kids, and they don’t treat us like we are, but they take a genuine interest in our lives–my brother and I. Even after 20 years apart Ron and Ruth, are interested in me and when Jen and I have a chance to see them, they’re quite happy to sit down and pursue us in conversation. I’m amazed by their love, it seems to have no bounds.
Ron and Ruth formed a special attachment to my brother and I, I think. You see, they played baby sitter when my parents couldn’t afford one (which in Hawarden was pretty much all the time.) They took care of my brother and I on a semi-regular basis. If there’s anyone–aside from my parents–who Jen and I would aspire to end up like as a couple, I’d have to cast my vote for Ron and Ruth. They’re great role models.
Honestly, I think of Ron and Ruth relatively frequently. They’re wonderful people. As I grew up in ‘conservative’ northwest Iowa, Ron and Ruth probably weren’t the outliars. They probably were one of a long line of folks who would’ve made great role-models. And, though I can’t say for sure, they’re probably pretty politically conservative.
I tell you that story to explain this: living in a conservative place, it’s difficult to find role-models with whom you share much perspective. Here’s a big confession: I’m not nearly as sure about being ’socially liberal’ as I sometimes like to portray myself. I think a lot of that lies in the fact that there aren’t really any mature folks that I know well that espouse well the gracious manifestation of Jesus Christ from a liberal slant. In short, pretty much everybody I know is conservative. The liberals–well, while many are laudable and downright wise themselves–mature folks, role-models, etc. are almost never ‘liberal.’
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m actually quite fond of most conservatives. Maybe that’s the problem. If I’m honest, I can’t make them worse than they really are–which really isn’t bad at all. Some are even very mature, far more mature than I. I’ll be damned if they’re not downright appealing.
Logically, I know that this shouldn’t matter, right? Just because a religio-political viewpoint isn’t particularly popular in a geographic region doesn’t make that viewpoint wrong, right? Yes. I’m right, but that doesn’t do much to console me when there are few heroes of the faith to look up to.
You know, the truth is I do use these folks as a role-model. I’m not haughty enough (at least not yet) to think that I can’t learn from them. It’s just difficult to model one’s faith after folks whose politics you think are ‘all washed up.’ Now, I’m not saying that there aren’t ANY progressive Christian rolemodels. Indubitably, there are. I just don’t know them yet, and that frustrates me from time to time.
I think the thing that draws me so to these ‘conservativish’ role models in the faith is that their dialogue isn’t soaked in conservative rhetoric. Their less vitriolic posture is appealing. I know the argument: “They’re in the majority they needn’t be vitriolic.” It’s true, these folks have the luxury of not beligerently pursuing their ideals–because their ideals are already a reality with in the Christian Church at large.
Progressive Christians–and there’s even alliances of them now–sometimes are wooed into participating (in my humble opinion) in the ’status quo dialectic.’ That is, these folks work to do exactly what conservative Christians have done. They seek to toss the table cloth of biblical liberalism over the table of Christianity. (Much like conservative christians have already done with conservatism.) And, once the tablecloth is cast, it sort of becomes a part of the table itself.
I’m not sure that casting a progressive cloth over Christianity is the method by which to pursue justice and truth. I think that first, liberal Christians and conservative Christians alike need to start bringing confession to the table and admitting–like I’ve tried in this post–that they’re humans, that they’re wrong sometimes, that they’re not perfect, and that they don’t have all the answers.
The goal of a tablecloth is to completely cover a table. Regardless of whether you’re a blue stater, a red stater, or blue, or red, (or some other shade of purple), I don’t think that controlling the viewpoint of the church is a noble goal for any one group to have. But, that seems to be what we try to do. I think, perhaps, that choosing to value a spectrum or spectra of political values is a more profitable value for church folk to pursue.
I hope, one day, to find myself a liberal role-model or two. Preferably a couple that lives out how to grow in the grace of Christ daily. A few folks who, out of their wisdom, don’t feel the need to sound shrill because it’s okay if some folks to disagree. Of course, this would require a radical transformation. Not a transformation, though, of the Church’s political landscape, or of any particular individuals’ views. It would require a transformation of the very way we interact with one another. It would require a mutual acceptance, a common concern for one another.
One day though, perhaps I won’t see it, perhaps I will–the Kingdom will reflect this mutual respect on the whole.
…thy kingdom come.
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07.24.05
Posted in blogvention at 8:32 pm by
FYI…at the request of a fellow blogventioneer, Steve, from Public Intellectual, I’ve set up a bulletin board on which folks can share info about splitting rides, finding a place to sleep in Grand Rapids (which will cost less than getting a hotel room for the entirity of your stay), or just sharing some general ideas about what blogvention should be.
You can check that bulletin board at the aptly URLed:
blogvention.badchristian.com
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07.22.05
Posted in christ-haunted life at 1:55 pm by
I’ve been reading The Gospel According to America. So far my favourite bit has been the ‘not-an-introduction-introduction’ that was really a ‘call to rememberance.’ Perhaps, you’re now scratching your head wondering to yourself, “What’s a call to rememberance?” The best thing you could do to answer that question would be to buy yourself a copy of David Dark’s newest offering and read it to find out for yourself.
For my purposes, though, I’ll offer my interpretation of the importance of remembering. I think the value of ‘remembering’ as a method of communicating allows people to couch their feelings in their own unique self-setting. By understanding the self-setting of others, it becomes much more easy to accept the differences that you may have with folks. For example, I’ve never been as close to understanding the politics of the current President until I spoke with a west Texas republican. It’s not that I’m a repbublican now, far from it, but by better understanding the cultural eccentricities of a particular landscape, I’m able to truly listen to individuals.
Rememberance also calls us to confession. That is, by remembering our own self-settings we’re able to tell our stories–our testimony, perhaps even the good news we’ve experienced–and in doing so, we admit our perspective. We own our slant publicly. By owning up to our understanding of life, we re-create our self-settings for our listeners. We allow them, then, to walk with us for a while.
To me, this blog is my attempt to let y’all try on my shoes. To get the scent of my life. Those blogs I like best do the same. Recently, though, (and in truth probably spurred on by David’s book) I’ve sensed the need to better offer a self-setting to all of you who stop by this place from time to time. It is my hope that by describing the story of my path to this point, you may better understand my ethos.
Clearly, this would be a momentus task for one post. Thus, I’ll pursue these ends in a short series under the title ‘a christ haunted life’. Of course, my story, for what it’s worth, is truly only a part of an authentic dialogue. So, as I do, I’d ask that some of y’all play along. Participate in the revelation of your own self-settings, tell your stories, confess to the things that make you who you are.
This, I hold, is one of the greatest luxuries this electronic community offers. We’ve the opportunity to share, in meaningful depth, our lives. If David Dark is right, and I wouldn’t have spent as much time on this if I didn’t think he is right, the only way to break the bitter and adversarial method of political, civil, emotional, and religious discourse (though I woudl not imply that these discourses are distinctly separate), is to confessionally remember together.
In community lies the great secret: if we ever hope to be saved–from bickering, or any other vice–it is through a community of listeners who, prizing more than their desire to be correct, value the process of hearing and listening above all.
So, I will share my story, but it is my distinct hope that many of you will follow suit. That you’ll remember, too. And, that through this rememberance we may break the cycle of discourse that so prevalently afflicts our society.
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07.21.05
Posted in education at 1:21 pm by
I don’t know how much y’all know about the No Child Left Behind Act (NCLB ). If you’ve been reading here for a while, you’ve probably guessed that I’m no big fan of the legislation. NCLB, the bi-partisan legislation Bush claims as excellent public school reform, is possibly the worst bit of legislation to have ever been enacted, in my opinion. I’ve written about NCLB before, even parodied it.
Jen and I have a friend who’s a teacher, and NCLB is becoming a bit more personal. I mean, it’s always been personal, to a degree. Under threat of firing, Jen’s teenage english students must meet ‘Adequate Yearly Progress.’ Yep, that’s right, even if a student chooses to NEVER do a shred of homework, even if a parent couldn’t give a shit whether her or his child passes any of their classes, the teacher is held responsible.
This friend of ours is trying desperately to get a job. And, frankly, west Michigan is a tough job market for a teacher to land a job. NCLB, now, makes it even harder. You see, it turns out that just because a teacher is ‘highly qualified’ (has a full college major) to teach ‘English’ they may not be ‘highly qualified’ to teach ‘language arts.’ Likewise, the teacher certified to teach ‘History’ is not necessarily certified to teach ’social studies.’
What that means is that if a teacher certified to teach history applies to teach an identical course with the course name ’social studies’ that teacher is no longer considered to be ‘highly qualified’ to teach the course–even though the course content hasn’t changed a lick. Now, in a school with a tight job market favoring schools, schools survive. Some teachers, like our friend, get screwed but in the end the schools don’t suffer as much as they might. However, in an area facing more financial hardship that has difficulty attracting teachers to begin with, such semantic bullshit may well sound the death bell for a school district.
I suppose schools could go about changing the names of their courses in order to meet the requirements of being ‘highly qualified.’ I think, though, that we need to be asking ourselves, “is this really what we want from legislation?” More beauraucracy? More red tape? More fussing over semantics?
How about we start holding parents somewhat responsible for their actions? Now, nobody wants a deadbeat teacher out there being a loser and not really doing their jobs. Deadbeat teachers should be reprimanded, and if that doesn’t do the job–fired. But legislation that expects that the fundamental problem with the US educational system IS THAT teachers are by and large deadbeats–and make no mistake, this is exactly what NCLB does–is terrible. NCLB puts the responsiblity on teachers to play the role of parent.
Then, if teachers don’t assume that role well enough and soon enough so that their students are able to achieve Adequate Yearly Progress, it gives parents a try at parenting…am I the only one who thinks that this is a little bass-akwards?
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07.20.05
Posted in fun at 2:52 pm by
This could be totally off base, or, just WAY uncouth but I just can’t help it any more.
Am I the only one who can’t help but smirk and laugh uncontrollably with my hand covering my mouth when some ‘emergent church person’ starts talking about being ‘missional’.
Am I a pervert?
Probably.
But, then again, so are these guys.
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07.19.05
Posted in faith at 11:44 am by
Greg at The Parish posted yesterday about the worship practices of the modern church. His thesis, as I understood it, was basically that the church has become individualistic to the point that its worship practices no longer challenge our individual selves. Without that challenge, there’s no chance that we’ll become anything different than what we are. The problem, of course, is that we’re meant to be more than what we are–we’re called to radical change and to be agents of change.
In the comments of that post Jim stated that this individual gratification model of Church could be an agent of death in the modern Church:
But you left out the warning. Affirming and (worse) acting on the things you called for in your post is maybe the best way I know to kill a modern north American congregation.
Greg responded in agreement and speculated that perhaps the death of the modern Church as we know it may be the only way for us to rebuild from the ashes:
You’re absolutely right; it will kill the typical American congregation. And you’re right that I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing if a good thing can be built from the ruins. I think we’re living in a time when the only way forward is to be faithful knowing that it will cost us size, “success,” and the trappings that come with cultural acceptance.
My question is this: has this practice of the deification of current lifestyle over change already killed part of the modern Church? What does a church that’s been lost to the worship of our static selves look like?
I suppose that, as you may have guessed, I think that many Churches are already on their deathbed–if not in their graves. Unfortunately, I think that on the basis of the appeal of their message of being comfortable in their suburban, upperclass, whiteness they’r not doing what a dying church should do: they’re not crumbling.
Of course, I’m thinking primarily of the modern ‘mega-church.’ People come in droves to the modern mega-church because it doesn’t REALLY challenge its members. Worship isn’t about change and challenge in many cases. And, unfortunately, I think that it’s just this quality that encourages folks to attend these churches in mindless droves.
I agree with Greg. The place to begin the building of an authentic Church that follows Christ rather than consumerism may well be in the ashes of a burned out Church. But, what if that burned out Church isn’t in a set of obviously charred ruins, but rather it’s a seemingly thriving body of people who believe strongly in the suburban gospel of whiteness and consumerism.
Trying to convince happy people that they need a life change that’s going to take them to a much less comfortable place isn’t a very appealing message.
My final questions are these:
Am I right, are many modern mega-churches already burned to ashes?
How do we spread the unappealing message of righteous discomfort to a happily comfortable group of people?
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